


All That Never Happens

by valenstyne



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Family Angst, Gen, Introspection, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valenstyne/pseuds/valenstyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You could have died and you would have been remembered forever, just like your father.<br/>Mariemaia, post-Endless Waltz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That Never Happens

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [gwficexchange](http://gwficexchange.livejournal.com/) a couple of years ago. I'm pretty fond of this one, I think I accomplished what I set out to, which is different. And man do I love Mariemaia.

You could have ruled the world.

You were meant to rule the world, Dekim Barton told you that. He said it had been planned since before you were born. He said it’s what your father would have wanted.

*

You could have ruled the world, and you almost did, and when it all went wrong you could have died with the plan and it would have been perfect, the kind of thing that happened in the fairy tales you used to read with Mama (but you don’t like to think about her), stories about sacrifice and the best kind of heroism. 

You could have died and you would have been remembered forever, just like your father.

But it wasn’t that simple, you didn’t die at all even though you thought you were going to, you were so sure of it that when you woke up in a hospital bed surrounded by unfamiliar people your first thought was that there must have been some mistake. Then that woman, Lady Une, told you that she would take care of you from now on, and that confused you because wasn’t she one of the people working against you? And anyway, you told her, you didn’t need her to take care of you, Dekim Barton did that.

She looked at you sadly and told you Dekim was dead. You didn’t feel anything. It didn’t even surprise you—your father was dead, Mama was dead (but you don’t like to think about her), everyone died eventually and left you behind, why should Dekim be any different? You didn’t say that to her, though, as you didn’t expect she would understand. Adults don’t understand you very often.

*

When they released you from the hospital they put you in a wheelchair, assuring you that you won’t be in it forever, with physical therapy you’ll be able to walk again very soon, but you don't care; you like the wheelchair. It reminds you of a throne.

Lady Une is all right, you decide. She isn’t soft and happy like Mama (but you don’t like to think about her), but she isn’t ever half so cold and scary as Dekim could be sometimes. She tells you she knew your father. She says he was a brave man, a good man, and that she respected him deeply.

You tell her what Dekim said, that your father would have supported your plan, would have wanted you to rule, would have wanted you to succeed where (Dekim said) he had failed.

She’s very quiet for a moment. Then she says _I think your father would have wanted more than anything for his daughter to grow up safe and happy, no matter what._

That is not a possibility you have ever considered before. You wondered occasionally how much of what Dekim said about your father, and about what your father would have wanted, was true and how much of it was just what Dekim wanted—but you never questioned him. He didn’t like to be questioned. Now you realize that you never asked Dekim how well he knew your father, or if he even knew your father at all. The thought makes you feel a little sick, but you don’t say that to Lady Une either.

Lady Une asks you if you would like to visit your father’s grave, maybe not yet but when you’re a little stronger. You say yes, and tell her that you’re quite strong enough now, thank you. She says perhaps some time this weekend.

*

She does take you to see your father’s grave three days later, but it’s not what you expect. You had sort of thought it would be fancier, somehow, maybe an angel statue like the one they put up for Mama (but you don’t like to think about her, and especially not about her lying under that angel) but it’s just a stone like all the others in the cemetery. Lady Une brought flowers, and she hands them to you to place on the grave. You put them down and decide that makes it look a little better.

You ask Lady Une who it is who’s buried next to your father. She tells you it’s Zechs Merquise, then says _no, it isn't, it’s Milliardo Peacecraft, he used to work with your father—but he isn’t dead, so they’ll have to do something about that grave._ Then she pauses and says thoughtfully that maybe Zechs Merquise is buried there after all.

You nod like it makes sense, even though you don’t understand her one bit. What you really want to know is why it isn’t your mother who’s buried beside him. It doesn’t seem fair that someone who isn’t even dead is next to your father and Mama is so far away, under the angel statue that you only saw once before you went to the orphanage, and then—

You don’t want to think about it any more. If you keep thinking about it you’ll cry, and you haven’t cried since Mama died—but you can’t think about that either. You’re not going to cry. You’re a big girl, Mama used to tell you that—and you were almost an Emperor. Emperors don’t cry.

On the way back to her house, Lady Une says she’ll bring you to see your father’s grave again any time you want. You say all right, but you don’t know if you will want to come back. You thought seeing the grave would make you feel something, maybe make your father more real, but instead you’re just kind of sad.

*

Life goes on after that. Lady Une takes you to work with her a few times, and introduces you to her staff, the Preventers. They’re all nice to you, but they look at you kind of funny and you know what they’re thinking.

Lady Une hires you a private tutor. _We’ll see about starting you in school next year_ , she says, and you say that you’d rather stay at home, and she says _we’ll see_ again. You don’t like the idea of going to school, of being surrounded by people your age—you’ve never gotten along with people your age, you don’t have anything in common with them, their fathers aren’t war heroes like yours. You know more about military history and strategy than your tutor does, which really shouldn’t surprise her but seems to anyway. 

You don’t understand why adults are always so surprised by you. After all, you could have ruled the world.


End file.
